By the middle of March 2011, I was getting worn down from the consistent pressure and persistent reminders I was balancing on the thinnest tight rope above the widest canyon. It felt like one wrong move and I was a goner.
The thing about having a permanent migraine is depression, and its easy to spiral once you start to fall. So when I was working hard, doing unpaid overtime, not taking days off, working when I was ill and still being told its not enough, it was really hard. It was really really hard.
I’d already made several references to my manager that I had to have a work/life balance, that my health was a priority. My symptoms were getting worse, more frequent and lasting for longer. I’d already been referred back to the neurologist and was still waiting for the appointment. I’d said I didn’t know how much more pressure/stress I could take and I was going to make myself ill.
And do you know what? I did. This is what I actually wrote in my diary:
I finally cracked this morning. I ended up crying on the phone to my GP in the middle of the town center. He’s signed me off work for two weeks and if I have any neurological symptoms for longer than 30 minutes I’ve to go straight to A&E.